


To Love a Beast

by esqueish (mogigraphia)



Category: As the World Turns
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-03
Updated: 2011-11-03
Packaged: 2017-10-25 15:57:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/272097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mogigraphia/pseuds/esqueish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Holden Snyder is taken prisoner by a creature; a Beast thought to be mere legend, Luke fights to take his place. Little does he know that life as a hostage of Reid Oliver will become far more complicated than he anticipated, and bear very strange consequences. Originally posted on livejournal, in 2010.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The farm by the edge of the forest is charming, perhaps even picturesque, fit for a painting. The house appears small, but it is deceptive in the amount of people it could hold. The family that lives inside of it, the Snyders, is large and prosperous, their modest wealth gained by the large beasts that roam the large fenced-in field that is situated nearby. The Snyders breed horses, and the head of the family, Holden Snyder, is quite renowned for his skill in doing so throughout the region, even in the large city that serves as the country's capital. While the family is somewhat apart from the neighboring estates, and not quite as grand, they are a friendly, hardworking group, and over all very happy.

Even now, as the sun began it's steady ascend upwards, the farm is a hive of activity, each family member going about their daily chores. Faith and Natalie, the daughters and middle children of the family, drag a large bucket of sudsy water and a hamper full of dirty and linens to the yard, wishing to take advantage of the early morning sun. Lily, the mother, can be seen seated on the bench to the right of the front door, papers and ledger books spread over her lap and on the bench beside her as she pours over the family accounts, making lists of things bought, sold, and bartered and copies them onto the vidpage with her much abused stylus. Ethan, the youngest, is barely out of his skirts, is attempting to carefully copy the alphabet gracefully written at the top of his paper by Lily, wiggling with the effort of sitting still.

The oldest child and son, Luke, is merrily making his way to the barn, a carefree smile on his face. Holden straightens up from beginning to fitting a for an antsy grey Arabian, which belongs to the Mayer family, who own the estate to their left.

Perhaps saying Mayer 'family' would be an overstatement, as the only surviving Mayer is Noah, the son of now deceased Winston Mayer, and his long deceased wife, Charlene. He is Luke's age, old enough to care for himself, yet he spends most of his time on the Snyder estate, as Holden has taken him under his wing. He is also betrothed to Luke, a long set match made between their fathers when the boys were still children.

Luke leans against the stall door, watching his father work. Holden has a way with horses, and this one is no exception. Luke can see it settling down, neck muscles relaxing as his father hums tunelessly, something he can almost identify as 'Octopus's Garden'.

"Hare for dinner," Luke says by way of greeting. "Casey dropped three off, for the colicky carriage horse last week."

"Noah staying?" Holden runs a hand down the Arabian's back right shank, wrapping a callused hand below the fetlock and lifting upwards gently and firmly. The horse obediently leans off of the leg, breathing evenly and deeply as Holden picks out the dirt. Watching Holden work has always calmed Luke; since he was small, all his adoptive father had to do was piggyback him to the barn and he would already begin to breathe easier.

"Dunno, probably, I haven't seen him yet today. I think he's in the back field." Luke shrugs, "I was about to take Dusk out that direction." He makes his way towards the only occupied stall, resting his chin on the short wooden door. "Feel like a bit of a jaunt?" The roan Morgan inside nudges his face against Luke's, a soft rumble that is supposed to be a nicker is the reply. Luke opens the stall, ushering Dusk out with the wave of his hand. Luke's raised the dark horse since they were both tiny, and he's all but officially Luke's horse. Luke mounts before Holden can say a word about a saddle, and just shakes his head as Luke and Dusk head out into the sunshine.

"Don't get into too much trouble, you two!" Holden teases as they leave, grinning after them. Luke just laughs, feeling happiness bloom inside his chest as the horse moves beneath him. He makes his way behind the house, Ethan waving with almost his whole body as they pass. Ethan, as well as the rest of the Snyder children, has had his share of rides on Dusk's wide back.

Once the pasture spreads out before them, it's not hard to spot where Noah is located, there are only a few trees dotting the golden field, shivering like water in the wind. He's almost to the tree line, sitting in the large oak they played around when they were small, one they have not visited together in many years. Luke stares across the tract for a moment, then grins, squeezing his knees and clicking softly, and off they go, thundering down the slight slope towards the tall oak.

Dusk slows automatically as they come close, and Luke hops off, bounding up to the trunk and shimmying up with ease. It's definitely not as tall as he remembers, but their clumsily carved names are still visible.

"Did you walk all the way out here by yourself?" Luke finds the familiar spot where he used to lay lengthwise down the longest limb on the tree. It's a little more awkward now that his torso is wider, but the worn bark against his cheek is like visiting an old friend.

Noah jumps a little, as if he didn't hear the hoof beats on the hard packed earth. He smiles almost shyly at Luke, swinging his bare feet in the air. "Yeah, it wasn't that bad. Just thinking." Dusk nickers softly below them, grazing leisurely. They used to do this a lot, the three of them lazing about when the weather was too hot, Luke making up ridiculous stories for hours on end, and Noah laughing in a high pitched giggle-squeak that Luke teased him about until his voice changed.

For a while after both of their bodies began to change, their friendship changed into more. It was perhaps this which prompted Lily to meet with Dusty Donovan, Noah's legal guardian, which brought about the betrothal that Luke was informed of soon after. Luke thought that he should want this, after all, Noah was his best friend, and he did love him, though perhaps not the way that he had when the two had first begun to sneak out at night for a purpose other than to tip Henry Coleman's cows.

However, at the words 'marriage', 'betrothed' , 'joining of households', and 'financial merging', he had thought that his throat might close up. While he loved his family, and the farm he had grown up on his entire life, he couldn't imagine not seeing the rest of the world, of not knowing what else life offered. In the end, he had told himself that he did, should want this. Unfortunately, it was now two months away from the wedding ceremony, and Luke feels, in his heart of hearts, that he still does not want this.

No matter how awkward things have become between them , Luke still does not hesitate to nudge, to push, to touch. He leans down, tapping Noah's forehead with a smirk and a chuckle.

"Thinking? Perish the thought! Whatever about?" Luke deepens his voice dramatically, twirling an invisible mustachio around his finger. It's almost the villain voice he used to use when he would make up longwinded stories to entertain himself and Noah, only deeper and with less flailing on Luke's part. Noah snorts, pushing his hand away.

"All those flowers your mother wants for the aisle of the church, I think she's conveniently forgotten that neither of us are girls," Noah says finally grinning and reaching up to poke Luke back with one massive index finger. Luke swallows hard, but continues to smile. Of course, the wedding. Right.

"Let her have what she wants while she can, Grandmother's taking an airship back to Oakdale from New Amsterdam soon, and when that happens, it'll be what Grandmother thinks is best," Luke says, wagging a finger and pursing his lips. Noah laughs, and it feels almost like they're both eleven years old again, just doing imitations of the people of Oakdale until the fireflies blink.

Smiling, Luke sits up, hugging the trunk of the tree. He faces the forest, which stretches out for what seems to be forever before them, even with the little advantage the slight slope gives them. Luke remembers how they used to dare each other to go into it, though the closest either of them ever got before running pell mell back to the safety of their oak was five feet from the tree line. He remembers Casey telling them all kinds of horrible stories about the things that happened inside, or the creatures that inhabited it.

Looking at the dense wood now, it looks normal, unremarkable. He can see the sparkling ribbon of a stream cutting through perhaps fifty feet in, and if he looks just past it, there's something that looks like a trail, slightly grown over with time and disuse. Though it is strangely silent, Luke finds it lacking something, something that's always background noise before in a forest. It takes him a minute to identify the loss; there's no bird trills, no squawking or cooing, or any animal noises. Apart from the faint trickling of the stream and shh-shh of leaves, there doesn't seem to be any movement at all. Luke shivers.

He must be silent for quite a while, because Noah's tugging on his ankle from below, raising an eyebrow at him. Luke smiles sheepishly.

"Sorry, I was miles away," he says, pulling his ankle from Noah's grasp.

"Miles away where?" Noah teases, grinning. "Mr. Coleman's tavern?" Luke laughs, though it's a distracted and far away sound.

He's silent again, his face slowly sobering and he is very far away, mountains and oceans away. "Do you know," he says, biting his lip for a moment before continuing, "do you know I wish we'd have explored those woods? I can't imagine that there's anything there that's truly terrible. It was just something all the adults told us kids to keep us from hurting themselves." Luke's eyes are continents away. "I wish…I wish we'd have taken up Grandmother's offer to travel to Santa Fe with her. Can you imagine, a brick red city, with more dust than grass?"

Noah looks at him a little askance but smiling, entirely nonplussed.

"It sounds strange, I imagine that the dust would get everywhere," he says a little teasingly. "And what would your father have done without us? There are things like 'chores' and 'work', remember?" He reaches to tickle Luke's side, but Luke wiggles out of range, laughing again to hid his disappointment.

"Yeah, you know how I forget," he replies, and they both fall silent again, lost in their own thoughts.

Far away, beyond the forest, the image of the two boys become men in the tree looks strange projected against the stony wall of the castle. A clawed hand reaches to twist the lens of the contraption that projects the picture, and Luke and Noah become snowy static.

"Well, the medicine was a success," Reid says finally, clicking his long claws against the metal casing of the contraption absently. "The child plays as if never on death's doorstep." The shimmering translucent image of the blonde woman standing to his right quirks an eyebrow at him.

"I didn't think you were really watching the child," she says lightly, crossing her arms. "I actually thought you were paying more attention to his older brother, hm?" Her face is trying not to be hopeful, even as she scoffs.

Reid snorts, chuckling a little bitterly. It sounds like the distant rumble of a stampede. "I don't think so Katie. I know what you're thinking, and I don't think so."

"That's not a no," she says, smiling hesitantly. Reid makes a face at her, pressing a button, and the static disappears.


	2. Chapter 2

As the sun rises, it brings the sight of an airship making it's way from the east, slowly sailing it's way through clouds and bright blue sky. The people of Oakdale give it no small amount of attention, everyone who lives in the small town with the popular hobby of being in one another's business stares up at it at least once in the hour it takes to drop lower, and cross over the town. Robert Hughes is possibly the only exception, as he just shakes his head, and insists he's seen more than enough airships to last him his life. He continues to stitch up the forehead of his grandson Casey, who had tripped over the wood he was splitting and managed to split open himself instead.

The airship touches down lightly on the large lawn in front of the Snyder house, a click-click-click noise signaling the engine powering down. The family approaches it, Ethan peeking at it with a mix of excitement and nervousness from behind Lily's skirts. They've been waiting for it to arrive, chores had been halted that morning for a large family breakfast, something they hadn't all been together for in the morning since Natalie requested it for her last birthday gift.

"I'll see all of you in a fortnight," Holden says, stepping up onto the ramp of the small airship, which has been sent from the city by courtesy of Lucinda. He's to spend a few days in a city, taking care of accounts and then escorting a mare to be bred with one of Snyder farm's stallions, and her owner, who will be staying with the family for a month.

Ethan is wrapped around Holden's left boot, stubbornly refusing to let go, and Luke peels him off, laughing a little as Ethan sniffles into his shoulder. The airship is making some sort of low hum behind Holden, and the pilot honks his air horn. Chuckling, Holden makes his way down the line, applying kisses to foreheads, and finally shaking Luke's hand and hugging him with Ethan in his arms.

"Try not to turn the farm into too much of a wreck," he says with a wink, backing up the ramp, and Lily laughs, waving at him as he enters the body of the ship, and the ramp tilts upwards to become the door. The remaining Snyder family backs away as the airship slowly ascends toward the clouds, and makes its way east, to the city. They stand there for a moment, watching it grow smaller and smaller, and then Lily claps her hands, smiling sympathetically at her children's gloomy faces.

"Come now, you'll see your father in two weeks, until then, there's still work to be done," she says, waving her hands at them, and they slowly disperse to their respective chores. Luke starts to set Ethan back down, but the little boy fidgets, clinging with his arms around Luke's neck. He's still pouting; this is his first time being without his father in his memory.

"I know what'll cheer you up," Luke says, shifting Ethan to his back, and he makes a loud neighing sound, and jogs off toward the house, imitating a gallop as well as he can with only two legs. Ethan giggles, flinging his arms out to the side, completely certain that Luke will never drop him, bouncing on Luke's back as they near the bench where their mother is usually found.

Instead of Lily, the pair of them finds Noah, grinning as the two of them halt, Luke panting as Ethan wiggles, insisting that Luke put him down. Luke crouches, and his little brother scuttles up the front steps and inside the house. Taking a deep breath, Luke sprawls in the grass, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he looks up at Noah.

"Plans for today, Mr. Snyder?" Noah says, affecting a city accent, full of boredom and rolling 'r's. Luke laughs, an open grin splitting his face as his friend pretends to sip tea with his pinky finger extended. Luke sits up, and affects the same rigid posture.

"I may take a few turns about the garden," he says, pursing his lips and crossing his eyes, "I hear that fresh air is good for the body, you know," and Noah laughs until his face is red, and they're both out of breath.

"I don't know how your grandmother stands all those stuffed shirts," Noah says, wiping his brow. The morning sun is already hot and oppressive. "Too many silverware settings, not enough brains."

"You lived with quite the stuffed shirt up until a few years ago," Luke points out, leaning back in the grass on his elbows again. Noah sobers for a moment, his childhood and young adult years were not the happiest of times, perhaps most because of his father, who made life more than a little difficult for his son until he was called away to war, and died on the battlefield.

"Exactly my point!" he says finally, grinning at Luke. "Can you imagine a whole city filled with men like him?" He pretends to shudder, and Luke laughs, throwing the grass he was braiding together at him. Luke leans forward, and then frowns, spotting a ripped pant leg, and a red liquid shine on Noah's left calf.

"You cut yourself," he says, tugging at his cuff gingerly, peering into the generous rip, and Noah bends, pulling the fabric up and over his knee. There are a few semi deep gouges, and Noah winces a little when he touches them tentatively.

"Walked through some gorse bushes this morning on my way over," he says, making a face. "I didn't notice." Luke touches the skin just above the cuts, tsk-ing.

"Here, come inside, I can clean that out and-" Noah covers Luke's hand with his own, and pulls it away, standing.

"I can take care of it myself," he says a little exasperatedly, and bending to kiss Luke almost as an afterthought, he makes his way inside the house. Luke flops back onto the grass and heaves a sigh, pillowing his hand with his hands. He sighs again, softer, his mind spinning vast maps and images of the city, the bustling streets that are said to never sleep, the cuisine of so many different countries and cultures, air ships embarking on flights to all over the world…

This lasts until a hen goes squawking by, shortly followed by a squawking Faith. Laughing, Luke springs up, helping his sister chase down the main course for the family's dinner.

~

Luke is walking through a forest that is growing more and more dense. The branches are bare, but he can only see the sparsest patches of sky, so little light filtering down to the ground that Luke finds it hard to see more than five feet in front of his face. His skin is clamming and crawling, and his mind feels fuzzy, as if he's wandering through a fever. Luke's heart is hammering in his throat, a heavy staccato against his sternum.

It takes Luke a long amount of careful steps before he realizes he's clutching something tight in his left hand, something jagged and sharp and it hurts, it hurts so much to hold, but he can't make his fingers release, can't make himself drop it. Luke's hand wets with blood, he can feel it itching his skin as it drips toward his wrist. The shape is familiar somehow, there are veins and divots and

 _it's pulsing in his hand_

he feels like he should know the shape, feels like he's doodled something like it absentmindedly.

Luke is bare foot, and his feet are swimming through layers of fallen leaves, which whisper to Luke as he walks, but it's as if they're speaking from across a field, he can't understand a word. H walks a little faster now, he's just remembered that forgot something. Or someone, Luke's not very sure which it is. All he knows is that it's important, so

 _fatally_

very important, he has to hurry. He speeds his pace a little more, and then Luke is struck by the fact that, aside from the leaves, there is no noise in this forest. Aside from the muted whispering, whispering that seems to be growing louder, though no less indistinct, it is utterly silent. Luke is alone here, the only living creature for miles. Luke breaks into a run.

"Luke…Luke…"

Luke thrashes awake, his limbs tangled in his bed clothes. It takes a minute to extricate himself, he's as sweaty as if he'd dashed from the Snyder's house to the wooden steps of the general store in Oakdale proper. Natalie steps back from the bed, eying him nervously.

"You were yelling," she says matter of fact, hopping up onto the bed. She pats his hand, imitating the sympathetic expression that Luke had given his younger siblings so often when they had been sleepless, and it makes Luke smile.

Wiping his forehead with the bed sheets, he pants, feeling somehow exhausted, despite the fact that he can see the beginnings of the sunrise outside his second floor window. "Sorry, I had a…dream," he says distractedly. He knows there's details slipping away fast like water through a sieve. He manages to keep the forest, a discomforting dark shape, and the leaves, and when Luke remembers the muttering that rose from them he feels a little nauseated. Taking a steadying breath, he stands, making his way over to the little stand by the window and pours a little water into the bowl from the simple ceramic pitcher. Dunking a cloth into the bowl, he runs it over his brow, willing himself to calm down. Luke had always had vivid dreams, many of them unsettling, but this one seemed to be lingering in his mind like an unwelcome houseguest.

 _Just a dream_ , Luke told himself firmly, setting the cloth down on the table and taking another deep breath. He steps back and Natalie is at his elbow, reaching out to pull at his wrist.

"Luke, your hand," she says, her small face creasing in concern. Luke turns his palm upward; it's covered in little bleeding cuts.

 _Just a dream_.


	3. Chapter 3

The man is unaware of how much time had passed, of how long he has been wandering vaguely toward his intended destination. He has the impression that time seemed to be only a concept often ignored in this woods, while his watch tells him he had entered them just three hours ago, his body tells him it has been several days.

The sun rises and falls twice as he traverses these strange grounds, and he is beginning to think it is impossible for this forest to be so large, so vast, when he had just passed it overhead not three days ago. But then, so much strange had occurred in the past three days, he thinks that maybe how large the woods were was the least of his problems.

The horse he rides is just as spooked as he, and as they continue on, they both grow more nervous and tense. Thankfully he, or at least the saddlebags he had found on the mare, had been prepared for such strangeness, in them he finds that he has more than enough food, and he even finds a small blanket that becomes much appreciated. The nights are far colder than they have any right to be during the summer in this region, even with the blanket his teeth clatter as he lies on cold ground, feeling his breath fog before him.

He's almost starting to believe the little voice in the back of his head, the nasty little whisper that says that the Beast is toying with him, punishing him, that there's no way out of these woods and he's going to wander among the silent trees until he runs out of food and starves. It's when the voice gets stronger, more out of control, that he finds that he's tumbling out of the tree line, that there's a slowly sloping field spread out in front of him, and in the distance, a house.

The man walks on, leading the mare and feeling the vague tug of unrealism, astounded that he is among people. He can hear bustle from the house as he gets closer, the warm sounds of a family, and he knows this is the one he was supposed to have already met those four days ago. The man leads his horse closer, until he's just standing at the backdoor, and as much as he wants to go inside, he stands there, weaving a little, unable to bring his hand up to knock. He blinks, his brain feels like it's being sucked into quicksand.

"Sir?" He thinks someone might be calling to him, he dizzily looks around, stumbling a little, and he sees a man who looks like he might be around the same age, dark haired and bright eyed, full of concern. "Are you okay sir?" He can't answer, he can't make his mouth work properly. Finally his eyes roll into the back of his head, and the world tilts backwards as the lights go out.

~

The Snyder family tries not to crowd the man, but they're all so curious and close to the edge of the bed that Lily sends all but Luke and Noah downstairs. Lily is adjusting the warm blankets the man is swathed in, doing her best to make him comfortable as his body warms up.

"You might've died of exposure if you were out there for a few more days, how long were you in those woods, three days? Four?," Lily asks softly, rubbing the man's forehead absently.

"No, no, a…few hours? Since about noon, maybe?" The other three exchange glances of surprise. "Time was…strange in there. I swear, it felt like it should have been days, but honest I just entered at the other side today," he says, babbling faintly.

Lily shushes him to keep him from straining himself, smiling, but concern creasing her forehead. "What's your name, sweetheart? Why were you in the forest?"

"It's Richard, Richard Tyler," he says, as if just remembering himself. The other three murmur among themselves. This is the horse owner who was the be accompanying Holden back to the farm. Holden was also due back two days ago. While this might not have been much news for someone else in his position, Holden is as punctual as a sunrise, a person could set their watch by him, and he is never late, if he can at all help it. Before anyone can refer to that fact aloud, Richard speaks again. "And I have something I need to tell you, Mrs. Snyder." The two men, previously standing, find spots in the room to sit down, instinctively feeling that this is the type of story that a person will want to be sitting for.

"Mr. Snyder, Magician's Trick and I left the city by the airship about four days ago," he begins, referring to the mare now out in the barn, the one that was the reason behind the whole trip. "The first two days were uneventful, just watching the land pass beneath us as the ship made its way west. We went bed that night very cheerful, your husband telling me of the meal we'd be presented with on our arrival the next day," he says, and Lily's hand twists a little in the bed sheets; they'd waited dinner a few hours, until it was almost nine at night and the food was cold as they all sat around the table trying not to look worried. Luke swallows, blinking his eyes hard. He doesn't know how this story will end, but he feels sick to his stomach, he knows that it can't possibly end well.

"When we woke up the next day and got underway, a fog crept from seemingly nowhere, and it blanketed the earth beneath us completely, confounding the pilot, he'd never seen anything like it. He said that usually, it's not dense enough to obscure the ground, or it's close to the ground, leaving many identifiable land masses to be guided by. But this, it was…wrong. It turned the earth into a ghost, and worse yet, a few hours later, the flying instruments along the pilot's front panel began to fail too. It became clear that we needed somewhere to land.

Unfortunately, though we needed to land, it was impossible to do so in the current conditions, since it was incredibly likely that we would end up crashing into whatever was waiting for us beneath the fog bank. We had no choice but to continue west, and hope that the fog would clear enough for us to land. That was how we spent the day, watching out the windows, hoping to spot green, or brown, or some color other than grey."

Richard's voice turns a little bitter here, though there is also fear in his features, and he takes a steadying breath before continuing.

"We rejoiced when we saw the field open up out of the fog before us, it was a weight off of the heart. The pilot landed the airship in the grassy area, and we all, men and horse, made our way out of the cab of the ship, in quite a splendid mood after the day of unease and worry. We looked around ourselves, watching the fog dissipating; we could now see the forest that began about fifty feet away, and it spread far in a circle around us. I wasn't paying attention, I had Trick by a lead rope, letting her graze, and Holden shook me by the shoulder.

'Look,' was all he said, and I followed the direction he was pointing, and I could see what at first look, appeared to be a mountain. Then the fog completely vanished, and the reality of what I saw truly was hit me. It was…some kind of house," he's squinting, as if observing it still, trying to puzzle out how to describe the structure. "The three of us stared at it for a moment, and it seemed to be a hodge podge manor of different metals." He pauses, considering. "I suppose there were other building materials in there, but it was almost entirely metal. We stood there for a while staring up at the tall building. We knew we were going to have to speak to whoever lived inside, the instruments were still going haywire, and if we could just get a map of the area, and our location, the pilot could manually fly us to our destination.

It did give us all the wiggins, it seemed to exude a strange menace, there was something in the air that turned the stomach. But we had no choice, we just had to hope that the owner of the strange dwelling would be willing to help us. I tethered Trick to the side of the airship, and the pilot opted to stay with the ship, he refused to go near the house. I would have liked to, but I didn't want Holden to go alone. It seemed as if he…knew the building somehow, in the way that it's unusual nature did not seem to surprise him, and he had no trouble locating the entrance, which was hidden in the shape of the sheeting that made of the bulk of one area.

It swung open with a creak as we approached, which should have been our first clue that we should turn back and wait for the instruments to fix themselves." Richard sighs, rubbing a hand on his face. The other three get the sense that this is not a usual mood for this man, he has tiny creases by the side of his mouth, as if suggesting he is often prone to laughter and smiling. "I wish now that we had. I called out first, hallooing, peering inside without entering. Holden shook his head, and grabbed my shirtsleeve, pulling me inside.

'Abandoned, or not home,' he said with something like relief, looking around in the dimly lit foyer; the inner walls were made of the same material, and they glittered in the light that poured in from the open door. The smell was worse as we got further inside. I was very uneasy by this point, I turned to Holden and begged him to leave. He opened his mouth, but he didn't get the chance to respond.

From behind me, I got the sense that there was someone, or rather something, that had crept up behind me. It was very close, I could hear its raspy exhalations. Holden's eyes widened, but he didn't shy away or run.

'You thought to come back, with your payment unfulfilled? Are you finally keeping your end of the bargain, or merely an idiot?' The voice that spoke was low, rough like sandpaper. It made me think of a childhood story, with Odysseus and the Sphinx. I was seized with the fear that it was a creature far beyond my comprehension, and I'm not ashamed to admit I shook like a young tree in heavy wind.

'I did not intend to be here, but I offer myself, in payment, and I ask that this man and my pilot go unharmed.' I stared at Holden, who could speak so freely and unafraid to this monster behind me. The creature made a rumbling sound, considering.

'Done, you are my prisoner. The pilot may try to lift off soon, he should find his panel instruments in working order,' and then there was a rumble that might have been laughter. I was further terrified, but I was also angry, I had the impression that it believed it was toying with us for it's own amusement. I turned to look, and immediately shriveled from what I saw."

Richard pauses again here, licking dry lips, fear still writ on his features.

"It was a large, hulking shadow the size of a Kodiak bear in gloom, a complete look impossible due to the poor lighting, but what I did see furthered my alarm. I had the immediate impression of shining tusks of teeth, curling ram's horns, and inscrutable eyes. I nearly stained my trousers. As I looked on it, there was another rumble. It was laughing at me.

'Little boy, are you in over your head?' It said to me, and the shadow grew, coming even closer to me. 'I have a job for you. Take your horse, ride her east through the woods, and you will arrive at the farmstead that was your original destination. Tell the family what has transpired.' I said I wouldn't leave without Holden. Before I could say another word, a claw slashed out of the hulking shape towards me, and cut me, here," he points to the wound along his collarbone, not deep, but there's enough crusted blood around it to suggest that it bled almost more than it should have. "So I ran." Richard falls silent, staring down at the bedclothes. The others realize belatedly that this is the end of the story. Noah is the first to speak.

"You're a very good storyteller," he says, as if unsure what else he can say. Richard shrugs, and the hint that he is a constant grinner bleeds through in his hesitant smile.

"Thank you, it was a required course in the school I attended in the city." Luke interrupts this exchange with a frustrated noise, standing up from where he had been sitting on the steamer trunk at the end of the bed, and he paces, seeming to consider something.

"You two just continue to blab away," he says heatedly, and it's plain that he is terrified. "Let's ignore the fact that my father is being kept prisoner by a fucking monster!"

"Luke, please! We don't even know if it's true." Lily is seconds away from tears, and whatever Luke was considering is cemented by the shine in the corners of her eyes. He flips open the steamer trunk, grabbing a canvas bag from it's depths and moves about the room, filling it with clothing. "Luke, what are you doing?" Luke rolls his eyes as he stuffs a slightly moth-eaten grey sweater into the bag.

"Well, obviously rescuing Dad. You know the animals of this area as well as I do, there is nothing that could have cause that cut. I'm going to save him, because obviously no one else is going to." With these words, he tears out of the room and down the stairs, the quick and heavy thump-thump-thump of his boots tearing a shriek out of a thoroughly wound up Natalie.

Luke exists out of the back door after grabbing his coat from it's hook in the mud room, and sprints across the yard toward the barn. He can hear Noah following after him, shouting something, but he does not have time, he has a storyteller sensibility, and his brain is already creating scenarios where the creature holding his father hostage has a taste for man flesh, is parting him from his skin at this very moment. Luke races to Dusk's stall, and Dusk makes a disquieted sound, he can feel how agitated Luke is. For a mad moment, Luke reaches for the teasel, his brain desperate for a normal routine to make sense of the crazy that sprouted through the cracks in his life just a few hours ago, but he shakes his head, and goes for the saddle blanket. Dusk nickers nervously.

"Sorry, no time, later," he says shortly, biting his bottom lip as he adjusts the blanket, then moves onto the saddle.

"Will you please stop and think for once in your life?" The voice that says this behind him is out of breath, and really pissed off. Noah leans against the nearest wood support beam, scowling at him.

"I am thinking," Luke replies fiercely, tugging on the front cinch and pausing, before tugging it tighter while Dusk isn't paying attention. It's almost turned into a game they would play as Luke adjusts the saddle, Dusk would take a deep breath as Luke was dealing with the cinch, so that it would significantly less tight than it should be, and Luke tightening it when he's off his guard. It usually makes Luke laugh, but right now it's automatic, there's no time. "I am thinking that my father is kidnapped, and I am the only one willing to save him."

"You are the biggest idiot," Noah's voice is disgusted, but Luke can here the tremble of fear creeping in. "If this whole thing is even true, you're playing right into its hands. If that story is true," Noah pauses here, before rushing on, "then it sounds like Holden owed the creature a debt, and now he's repaying it, that's not a hostage situation, it's business." Luke just stares at him.

"Whatever my father owes him, it's not worth his life!" Venom laces his every word, each word getting progressively louder, causing Dusk to toss his head as Luke coaxes a bit into his mouth. Noah looks ready to tear his hair out.

"Then wait until tomorrow! We'll go see Margo, or Jack, they'll know what to do," he says, practically begging. Luke shakes his head, he doesn't even consider it. Noah makes an exasperated noise. "I don't know why I expect any different, this foolishness is exactly like you," he said angrily, and stalks off toward the house. Luke doesn't allow himself to dwell on it, he tells himself he doesn’t have time, that what matters now is Holden.

Luke springs into the saddle, and urges Dusk out of the barn, leading the gelding by the failing light behind the house. His plan is half formed in his mind, and more ill-conceived than he is willing to admit, but his mind is thumping _dad dad dad_ like a horse's canter. He urges Dusk faster, and they tear down the hill toward the tree line, and disappear into the woods.


	4. Chapter 4

Luke soon learns that staring at a forest and wondering about what it holds, and actually riding through it at top speed are two very different things. Branches lash his arms and face as they speed through the almost darkness, his arms are safe from his long sleeve shirt, but his face and neck earn their own fair share of cuts. Luke doesn't care, he feels like little whip-snaps of pain as though he's watching it happen to someone else, his adrenaline is far too high to let him feel the hurt. He thinks this should be relatively straight forward, ride through the woods, emerge on the other side. But of course, it's vastly more complicated than that.

His goal was originally to follow as straight a line west as possible, using Polaris and his pocket compass as his guide. However, the trees crowd so much over head

Are the leaves whispering?

that he can barely see the night sky. He tries to glance very often and check to make sure they're going the right direction, but that's quickly lost when he can't even find the cart and mourners constellation in the sky, and it reduces him to praying that he is heading due west with a fervency he has not had for prayer in many years. All too soon, Luke finds himself turning into a horror story cliché, he feels watched, he feels like he's passed that tree already, and it is far too quiet.

They ride like that for a while, Luke clinging to every hope they have, and Dusk doing his best to carry him. But they can't keep going like that indefinitely, and before too long, it's time for a break. He slides off of Dusk, and already feels like he is not going fast enough, he feels he is failing Holden, but also knows horses, and he knows that they can not be fleet of foot for hours on end. Luke keeps them on at a brisk pace still, leading Dusk as gently as he can by his reins. They cover some ground, and where usually Luke would probably burst into a tuneless rendition of something like Strawberry Fields Forever to amuse himself and pass the time, right now he is silent, his nerves feel shot to hell and back.

An hour passes, and Luke gets back on Dusk but they're going much slower now, and he can't keep lying to himself about how he really is lost, how he really is an idiot. He reaches into his pocket for his compass, and it's not there. Luke realizes he must have dropped it over two hours ago, and then he hates himself. He doesn't know why he thought he could do this, he just couldn't sit around and not act, not at least try to save the man who raised him as his own.

They ride for another hour, and now Luke is really fucking lost. There truly is not another way to describe his situation but really fucking lost. Luke is severely doubting his ability to reach this mysterious metal manor house, but he's just as skeptical of his ability to make it back home. He figures he might as well keep going, rather than turn back and discover he wasn't far away. Every little hill he comes over, he hopes that is when the trees will clear and he'll see the house of the story, but it's the disappointment of more foliage every time.

It's around the fourth hour, Luke dismounts again, when something-- a snake, a stray leaf, a strange shadow --spooks Dusk, and spooks him bad, he's already a tense ball of nerves from this strange turn of events, and when something startles him, he snaps, bucking and voicing his fear and displeasure. Luke tries to calm him, murmuring quietly and comfortingly, but Dusk rears back again, and sends Luke off balance, and he's falling backwards over a wide tree root, his arms are spinning but he can't stop himself. His head connects with hard earth, and he's out, his brain spinning it's wheels in the mud.

He has the vague sensation of being picked up, of being cradled and carried, but he's very sure this is a dream or delusion, because Luke is nearly one hundred and eighty five pounds, but whoever has rescued him is carrying him as easy as a small child.

~

When Luke wakes up, his head hurts, and his sight swims. He feels a little like he's been clubbed over the head, and his skin is clammy. He's tangled in his bed sheets, and though he feels horrible, he also feels relief coursing through him, almost crippling in it's intensity.

Just a dream. Just a dream.

He opens his eyes slowly, and it must be the middle of the night, because the light is dim and barely there, the only thing giving the shadows depth is the small kerosene lamp beside the bed. He starts to look around, but his brain stops immediately on Holden, who is seated in a chair next to the bed. Luke smiles broadly at him.

"I just had," he says, and then laughing a little at himself, "the most bizarre and terrifying dream-" he stops frowning. Holden is stone silent, his face unsmiling. "Dad? You okay?" Then his vision clears up, and he really gets a look at the room.

It is full of decadent furnishings, gilt chairs and thick tapestry hangings on the walls. Which are metal. To say that Luke's heart sank into his stomach would be something of an understatement. His face falls, and he clutches the warm comforter ins his fists, willing himself not to throw up.

"Luke, why did you come?" Holden's face is blank, and with Holden that always suggests more anger than if it was contorted with rage. Luke shrinks away from him, feeling small.

"To rescue you," he mutters, not looking at his father. He can almost hear Holden gritting his teeth.

"I didn't want anyone sacrificing themselves for me," Holden protests, but Luke shakes his head.

"The farm needs you, you have to go back."

"It's time you picked up the reins anyway," Holden begins, but before he can start a discussion that utterly horrifies Luke, his father falls silent, staring at the door to the room. Luke turns to see what he's looking at, and he can see a shape in the doorway, and his mouth goes dry. It's a giant, shaggy thing, and Richard was not exaggerating the size, for it is massive. Its dark in the room, the only light is the kerosene lamp, so he can only see the suggestion of the horns that Richard described, the vague hint of teeth that peek from a wide mouth. The eyes however, seem luminous, and Luke can hardly look away from them, there's something about them that scares Luke more than anything else.

"Well Holden? Are you going to explain the reason for your 'extended vacation' in my home?" Once again, Richard is spot on; the voice calls to mind sand and thunder. Luke is surprised to find that it's not unsettling, like everything about this situation. It's almost comforting. But, there is still the question of what the creature is talking about. He shifts in bed, and the headache returns as he looks at his father.

"Dad?" Holden sighs.

"Do you remember when Ethan was very sick?" Luke nods, it wasn't long ago, and he could hardly forget. His little brother had been on the edge of death, his skin ashen and clammy, and he had barely been able to eat, his stomach refusing to keep anything down. Every doctor that came to see him insisted that there was no cure, and that in a few months time, he would be gone. However, Holden had heard of a physician that lived far through the woods in another village that was talented beyond compare, and with no other hope left, he had saddled up a horse and set off in the hopes that he would be bringing the man back to save his son.

He had not returned with a man, but he did return with a cure. Holden didn't say much about his journey other than he was positive that the tiny bottle filled with dark liquid would work. Luke, and the rest of the family, hadn't questioned it, as the medicine had been an unquestionable success. And when Ethan was up and running and giggling like before, any question of the exact story behind the cure had seemed unimportant to Luke.

Holden is silent again, and the creature in the doorway makes an impatient sound.

"Apparently he has neglected to tell you how he took the cure and ran in the night like a common thief?" The monster appears more amused than angry about this. Luke looks confusedly between the shadow in the doorway and his father, and finally Holden sighs and begins to speak again.

"You know that I do my best to be an honorable man, Luke. But at the time, we didn't have the funds to pay for the treatment at the time. The cost was so high…but I had to take the cure back to Ethan." Luke can't find fault with his father; he would have done the same thing. The creature makes another impatient noise.

"You idiot, I only asked for that much so that you would ask for less," the monster quips, and there's a slight snorting sound that might be more amusement.

"You couldn't just give him the cure out of the goodness of your heart? Or do you even possess one?" Luke shoots at him before he can stop himself. He stares a little angrily at the shadow in the doorway, and there's an agitated movement from the same area. "Do exist to prey on the emotions of the unsuspecting?"

"No, I much prefer to prey on their flesh," the creature throws back at him, and Luke's mouth goes dry, his stomach turning over uneasily. Was this the reason he was keeping Holden? This was starting to feel far too much like a children's tale, and Luke knew those always ended poorly; the queen is blamed for Snow White's murder of her father, Hansel and Gretel burn the witch and her candy house, and the wolf continues to lure more children to grandmother's house. Before anything else can be said, Holden clears his throat.

"Allow my son to leave unharmed, he's not a part of this."

Luke shakes his head vigorously, he's dizzy and still a little nauseated. "No, Dad, the farm needs you, the family needs you." Holden laughs a little, it's strained.

"Was planning on having you take over soon any-"

"Dad, I really don't want to let you finish that sentence," Luke interrupts, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before speaking again. "I offer myself in his place."

"I will not allow you to sacrifice yourself for my misdeeds," Holden says fiercely, leaning over the side of the bed. "You're going home, and you're taking my place as the head of the family." Now it's Luke's turn to laugh.

"Do you think I have your way with horses? Or your connections in the city? You are going home, and I am taking your place." Luke attempts to make it sound final with his tone.

"Done."

Both Snyders snap their eyes back to the shadowy doorway, Luke's face full of relief, and Holden's full of horror.

"No, no, this is my debt-"

"I accept this arrangement, after all, as your son says, the family needs you far more than him," the thunder and sand voice sounds more amused than ever. "I insist." The smug tone is making Luke angry, but he can hardly argue with him. Holden stands, knocking his chair backwards and causing the chair legs to scrape harshly over the floor.

"I will not allow my son to-"

The shadow in the doorway creeps a little closer, and the hostile rumble that drifts from it makes the hair on the back of Luke's neck stand up.

"Unless you would prefer to leave my manor with three limbs instead of four, I suggest you leave. Now. I'll see that it only takes you a few hours to cross through the forest. And Mr. Luke Snyder-"

The shadow takes a few steps forward, and the creature that now holds Luke as a willing hostage is into sharp relief by the light. The horns are bone white, large and curling, dark red fur covering it entirely, and the teeth shine dully in the light of the kerosene lantern. Perhaps these features wouldn't be as horrifying, if it weren't for the bright blue, and incredibly human eyes. Luke chokes back a noise as he sits bolt upright in bed, his head throbbing once more, but he hardly notices, transfixed on the utter _beast_ before him.

"-welcome to my manor."


	5. Chapter 5

After a tight hug, Holden makes his way quickly from the room, and Luke's eyes lock back on the beast, who is slowly advancing toward the bed. Suppressing the urge to scoot away from it, Luke watches him mistrustfully, wrapping his arms around himself. As the beast reaches the bedside, it reaches a paw up towards Luke's face.

Luke flinches away instinctively, he can see short little claws that take the place of nails. The beast makes a scoffing sound, and touches his face lightly anyway, almost tentatively.

"Don't have a heart attack Mr. Snyder, you hit your head particularly hard in the forest, and there's a high possibility of a concussion." The paw is soft, and surprisingly gentle against his temple, he can only barely feel the tiny points of the claws. It makes Luke confusingly hot and shivery for a moment. The beast picks up the lamp from the bedside table, and passes it in front of Luke's right eye, and then his left, it's cat-like face looking intently at each of his eyes as it does so.

"What are you?" More words are spilling out of Luke's mouth, and for a moment he thinks the beast will be angry, but it only sighs, as if annoyed.

"Close the gash in your face unless I instruct you to speak." It stows the lamp back in it's place. "Now, what is your name?"

"Luke Snyder," Luke replies, confusion and annoyance in his tone. "But you already knew that, you've called me by my full name." The beast makes another annoyed noise.

"To confirm that you are not concussed, it's necessary to ask you some simple questions and check that you respond correctly." It makes a face that might be described as 'put upon' by Luke's mother. "Though perhaps simple questions might prove to hard for you. Your father's name?"

"Holden Snyder," Luke replies, only a little bit sulkily. He resists the urge to cross his arms.

"And your brother?"

"Ethan Snyder." Luke feels a little impatient, hoping that the beast is not about to question him on his whole family, but the beast seems satisfied.

"Now, do you feel as if you might regurgitate gastronomical juices?" Luke blinks, shaking his head. Another sigh from the beast. "Do you feel like you're going to throw up?"

"Oh, no," Luke says, feeling like an idiot, then feeling annoyed as he realizes that was probably the beast's intention. "The back of my head just hurts." Luke feels a paw tenderly probing the back of his skull, and he winces as it reaches the right side, a few inches to the left of his ear.

"You'll have lots of bruising, but nothing terribly serious, if you don't do anything idiotic." The beast's tone suggests that it believes idiotic actions on Luke's part are highly likely. Luke is trying not to be too offended, he's starting to realize that the beast truly enjoys seeing Luke affronted, but it's getting harder and harder.

"Excuse me…" he starts with no shortage of acid in his voice, and then drifts off, and attempts to survey the beast casually. There's an awkward pause, and then the beast laughs, almost too loudly.

"You're trying to figure out if I'm male or female, aren't you?" Now Luke can tell that the beast truly thinks him simple. "To save you further awkward questioning, I am in fact a male monster."

"Well I didn't think it would be polite to assume," Luke says defensively.

"All the more reason not to be polite," the beast quips. "And now, out of bed Mr. Snyder, no sleeping until tonight."

"What time is it?" Luke asks with a yawn, feeling a little exposed as he tosses the covers off and swings his legs over the side of the bed. He crosses his arms over his chest, staring at the creature who is his captor.

"Perhaps a little after nine in the morning," the beast replies, stepping back to allow Luke to stand. Now that Luke's paying attention, he can hear the light clack-clack of nails against the floor.

"Nine in the morning?" Luke repeats with some surprise, the room is so dark it gives the impression that the time is much later.

"That is what I said, are you hard of hearing?"

"Are you done being an asshole?" Luke shoots off before he can stop himself, the constant insults are beginning to grate on his nerves. Perhaps not the most intelligent thing to say to a creature that has threatened to eat him. The beast surveys him with intelligent eyes, and then his mouth approximates what Luke guesses would be a smirk on a human face. The teeth on display should worry him, but instead he finds himself smirking right back.

"Unfortunately for you, Mr. Snyder, not until I've breathed my last breath. Now boots on, to keep you from boredom, and therefore keep you from being an annoyance to me, you'll be getting a tour." Luke toes on his boots, which he finds by the end of the bed. They've been cleaned of mud and are looking newer than they have for many years. The beast watches him, his gaze far more penetrating than Luke is comfortable with.

"Now, follow me."

~

They've made their way up and down a few metal corridors, the beast opening a door and stepping back to allow Luke to peek in as the purpose of the room is explained. Both the hallways and the rooms are at around the same lighting as Luke's room, which makes it a little difficult, but his eyes are adjusting quickly.

He spends just as much time looking at the beast as he does at the manor. Out on the slightly better lit corridors, Luke can now see that he wears a midnight blue shirt fitted for his uncommonly wide shoulders and chest, which tapers into a smaller waist. Over it is a black waist coat, and finally black pants, which end above his knees that remind Luke of a dog's hind leg. Luke tries not to stare, but the sight of a dressed beast moving almost silently beside him is a distracting sight. It's a wonder the beast has not caught him at it, and it seems he almost does as he halts them in front of a set of ornate French doors.

"And this, Mr. Snyder, is my library," he says, introducing the room as he has all the others, and swinging the doors open. Luke's jaw drops. The room is of a size that can only be described as mind bending, and all available wall space appears to have been dedicated to bookshelves, impossibly tall metal shelves that reach nearly to the vaulted ceiling. The lighting is more generous here, illuminating the assortment of wide plush chairs, as well as a few couches in the same style. Where tables aren't piled high with books, they hold strange little anatomical models. As Luke steps closer to one, he can see they're made out of plastic, which is even stranger to Luke than anything else he's awoken to today. He knows he's been sheltered in Oakdale, but he didn't think that plastic had been in use for many, many years.

They are disconcerting in and of themselves, does this beast enjoy human meat so much he decorates his library with models of the organs he considers tastiest? Luke comments on this, doing his best to sound offhand, though a quiver manages to worm it's way through his speech. The beast stares at him with wide eyes, seeming to look as nauseated as Luke feels.

"Maybe I should speak as if to a toddler from now on, I was being facetious." The beast shakes his head, and fakes a shiver.

"I certainly hope so," Luke says, ignoring the first part of the sentence and taking a few more steps into the room. They're both silent for a long moment as the beast watches Luke move down one wall, looking through book titles with a smile. Finally he turns back to the beast, grinning at him. "I don’t know that I've ever seen so many books in one place."

The beast's face is inscrutable for a moment, then it breaks back into the smirk from before.

"I'm glad it pleases you, Mr. Snyder."

~

The sunlight hurts Luke's eyes as he follows the beast of a side door, cunningly disguised as more patchwork metal wall. The area they stand in is explained as the 'side yard', and it's filled with trees and shrubs. It appears to have been a garden, once upon a time, though it has since run wild. Luke loves it immediately, and he runs his hands lightly over the colorful blooms that line the path, following as the beast leads him along.

"I thought this might amuse you," the beast says over his shoulder as they walk. They emerge into a hollow, which is mostly occupied by a long wooden building, and Luke can see immediately that it was once a stable. It's a little dilapidated now, but still appears sturdy, with one long wall knocked down and cleared away completely. As they come around to face the building where the missing wall would be, Luke catches his breath. There is a herd of wild horses quietly grazing there, all knee deep in the tall grass that grows in the shadow of the once-stable.

"And your horse is there," the beast says quietly, putting a paw on Luke's back and pointing to the stalls still inside the building. Dusk is put up in a stall at the very end, is munching contentedly on fresh grain and looking for all the world to be as spoiled as Luke allows him to be at home. A goofy grin spreads over Luke's face as he carefully makes his way to Dusk's stall, the wild horses edging away from them, though they appear to be more concerned with the beast's hulking mass.

"Well weren't you just no help last night," Luke says quietly, laughing a little as he reaches up and softly scratches behind Dusk's right ear. "Spooking like some lady's pony, we'll see if you get any sugar tonight." Dusk nudges his velvet nose over Luke's cheek, snorting a little. Luke sighs, feeling truly at ease for the first time for quite a few days. He looks back over at the beast, who has the strange expression Luke can't quite decode on his face, but before he can ask about it, he's startled out of his skin by another voice.

"Dinner is being laid out, if you're interested." Luke whips around, his eyebrows almost disappearing into his hair. He can see the shape of a woman in the shadow in the stable, but she's vague and blurry. Luke blinks his eyes tight, wondering if he'd gotten dust in them. When he looks at her again, she looks just the same, and she reminds Luke of a film in the fancy place in the city his grandmother has described to him as a 'cinema' when she had last visited.

"Katie…" the beast growls at her, his face turning him back into the menacing creature from earlier. Luke takes a few steps away from him, puzzled at this turn of events.

"Reid…" Katie singsongs back at him, completely unafraid of his annoyed anger. "He's probably starving, bring him inside to the dining room." She then turns to Luke, grinning widely at him. "I'm sorry, he likes to forget social graces like meals and introducing people to one another. I'm Katie, and I'd shake your hand but-" she laughs a little, "I'm a little unable to." Luke stares at her a little, smiling hesitantly, and Katie looks as if she's resisting the urge to coo at him. "Oh Reid he's adorable, you've neglected to explain a thing." The beast makes an annoyed noise, and gestures between them with one clawed paw.

"Mr. Snyder, this is Katie, Katie, this is Luke Snyder." With another sigh, he continues. "Katie keeps my house for me, and likes to consider annoying me her secondary job. She's a hologram." Luke nods with a little more understanding, Lucinda had talked at length about the hologram she'd bought to answer her door, but he had been under the impression that they were merely expressionless, autonomous computer programs for a single purpose. Still, he asks no questions, Katie is smiling brightly at him, and it lightens his heart to be around someone in such a good mood.

"So Luke, I can imagine you are rather hungry, would you like to come inside and have a bite to eat?" Katie's enthusiasm is infectious, and when Luke's stomach growls they both laugh. The beast makes another annoyed noise, and they both laugh harder. "Reid, it wouldn’t hurt you to lightening up."

"But why take the chance?" His tone is full of venom, and Luke shakes his head, laughing a little.

"So your name is Reid? Interesting name for a beast." Katie makes a face at the beast, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You haven't even told him your name? Are you touched in the head, or do you want to keep the poor boy frightened of you forever?" To Luke's utter delight, Reid appears agitated and sheepish, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"I was getting to that," Reid mutters. Katie shakes her head at him, and her body shimmers a little before disappearing. Reid nods to Luke, gesturing him back towards the manor. "Come on, I'm hungry myself, and if we don't eat soon, perhaps I will be interested in how man flesh tastes."

~

The table is laid out with a veritable feast of many different foods, and Luke's stomach grumbles again as he looks over the bounty.

"Well, don't stand there staring at it," Reid says, sitting down at one end of the table. Luke laughs a little, shaking his head as he sits. He begins to ladle himself some of the tomato soup from the tureen nearest to him, the scent making his mouth water, and he's almost finished with the bowl before he looks up and sees that Reid hasn't even begun yet.

"Is something wrong?" Luke asks curiously, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I just…make quite a mess when I eat. I've never quite been able to negotiate these," he says, gesturing to the just a little too long teeth that protrude from his upper lip.

"Why does it matter?" Luke asks incredulously, staring at Reid.

"Just because I look like a beast, doesn't mean I have to behave like one," he replies, looking at Luke angrily from across the table.

"As if you don't behave like one?" Luke says, laughing a little. He spots Reid staring at a plate of sandwiches towards the middle, and he stands, picking one up and going to the other side of the table. "Now open up."

"Are you serious?" Reid asks, looking at him skeptically. Luke shakes the sandwich a little, bending until their faces are even.

"You're hungry, which means you're going to eat this sandwich," Luke says, matter of fact. "Do I have to play the airship game? Are you three years old?" Reid opens his mouth reluctantly, and Luke carefully holds out the sandwich, looking down at the table to give him privacy as he takes a bite. As he hears him swallow Luke looks back up, smiling triumphantly. "See? I don't understand why you made it so difficult," Luke says with some exasperation.

Reid has a strange expression on his face, and Luke hopes that eventually he'll be able to read his features as easily as anyone else.

"Just an impulse, I suppose."

Luke returns to his chair, and Reid clears his throat as he piles a few more sandwiches onto his plate.

"So…do you have…hobbies?"

He sounds so awkward that Luke wants to laugh, but he holds it in because he's glad that Reid's not being as much of a jerk as he was before. Luke shrugs, spooning up more soup.

"Not particularly, I help my father on the farm, well, helped," Luke says, trying not to wince as he's reminded of his family. "I take care of my siblings. Spend time with my friends."

"Come on, everyone has a least one thing they enjoy doing," Reid says, and Luke believes he might be raising an eyebrow sardonically at him, it's harder to tell when said eyebrow mostly blends in with the rest of the hair on his face. Luke considers for a moment.

"Well, I like telling stories," Luke says shrugging. He's never thought of it as a hobby, just something to send Ethan off to sleep, or to distract the girls when they both had influenza at the same time. While he enjoyed it, it was just something second nature to him, like eating or breathing. "My family likes them but…" Luke shrugs again.

"If you'd like I…I have paper in the library. If you'd like to write some down." Reid is clearly uncomfortable, but for some reason, Luke finds it endearing.

"I'd like that a lot," Luke says, smiling.


	6. Chapter 6

It should have been strange, the way the days began to tumble along. Luke was surprised to find an agreeable companion in his jailer. Well, as agreeable as Reid could be. But Luke learned to read the beast; the subtle movements of his face, and the soft changes of his outwardly wry tone.  
“You know, half the time, you’re only pretending to be irritated,” Luke told him over a desk covered in paper and splattered with ink. Reid looked up from Daniel Defoe with a disgusted expression.

“I see, you’re a self proclaimed psychologist now.”  
“No, I’m just onto you,” Luke said with a cheeky grin before absently biting down on his fountain pen, which spurted ink into the blonde’s spluttering mouth. Reid’s dark rumbling laughter filled the room.

  
As time passed, the tow began to gravitate into a natural pattern. Luke would breakfast alone and head to the library, where he would read until Reid decided to come join him, as if he had anything else to do, or anyone else to talk to. Luke would then begin to write, and Reid would butt in with what Luke deemed ‘unnecessary editorial comments’, and the two would begin to argue.

  
“Why isn’t the princess waiting for the carpenter?” Reid said with annoyance the morning Luke decided to retell his favorite fairytale. “If she had just stayed put, he would have found her in the troll’s cave.”  
“Ah, but she wasn’t content to wait to be saved,” Luke said with draining patience. “Her people are warriors, and the troll presented only a minor obstacle.”

  
“But now she’s fighting the minotaur, and he’s headed in the wrong direction!” Reid retorted, throwing his paws in the air. “How’re they supposed to find ‘true love’ now?”  
“Have patience, furry one,” Luke said imperviously, bending his head back over his pages.

  
“Stupid humans, both of them,” the beast growled, returning to Moll Flanders.

  
There is an awkward moment, perhaps far more than an awkward moment (though Luke steadfastly ignores such thoughts) a month or two after Luke’s arrival. Most of the time, during the laughing, and the teasing Luke locks it away into a far corner of his mind, and instinctively refuses to let himself dwell.

  
They had been at the dinner table, wolfing down food indiscriminately after a full day of discussion. Luke had been laughing over something completely ridiculous that Reid had said, his eyes nearly watering from the force of his mirth, and suddenly, Reid looked as though he was steeling himself for a blow.

  
“Luke, I love you.”

  
Luke had felt as if his brain hiccupped, his bursting laughter halting immediately. A silence that was almost nauseating in the amount of awkward it possessed froze the room, and finally Luke stood up, his chair legs squealing against the floor.

  
“Excuse me,” he had said quietly, his mind whirling and unfocused as he had made a beeline for his room. Once there, he locked the information, and every feeling he had related to it away. They had their clear roles, gaoler and shackled, human and beast. To divert now would force questions that Luke couldn’t answer.  
And while Luke’s extended-extended stay became far more idyllic than he had anticipated beyond that one moment, there were still rough patches. Sometimes Luke and the Beast would argue, and it was the furthest thing from amicable imaginable. On nights such as those, they took dinner in separate rooms, or even went another day without speaking.

  
Strangely, it was that which reminded Luke most of his family which brought them back together most often. When the two of them quarreled, Luke often escaped to the horse pasture, where he would rant as Katie glimmered understandingly.

  
“Luke, I know you’re angry, but Reid can be a little…emotionally stunted,” she would say. “Give him a chance to apologize.”

  
“I know, I know,” Luke would reply with a frustrated air. He loved having Katie around, she often kept him from going completely mad, but she had a tone about Reid and himself that he didn’t quite understand. But eventually Reid would come find him, and they would make small talk about the horses until they were insulting each other good-naturedly again.

  
He supposed it would have been hard, talking about something that was so linked to his daily life before…Reid, but so far his most effective tactic had been to not think about them. It was simply far too painful, imagining his siblings growing, the house going through the seasons and changes without him there.

  
On one such early afternoon, Luke is sitting cross-legged, resting his chin on his hand. He knew the herd that grazed in the ruin of the old barn very well now; he had named each of them and kept track of their lives as if they were old friends. He observes a dun colored mare with a piebald face that he had named Renette, smiling fondly. She is very, very pregnant, and Luke can tell that it will be any day now. There is indistinct rustle of tall grass behind him, and Reid settles down beside Luke. For such a large beast, his movements are almost noiseless. Luke waits.

  
“How is everyone today?”

  
“They’re doing quite well,” Luke replies warmly, “Madeline is going into heat soon, Lavinia’s thrush appears to be clearing up. Renette should have her foal very soon.”

  
“What will you call it?” Luke looks thoughtful for a moment.

  
“François if it’s a male, Antoinette if it’s female.”

  
“Is there a reason eighty percent of this herd appears to be French?” Luke looks over at Reid; there’s a raised eyebrow expression on his face.

  
“Is there something wrong with the French?” Luke retorts, an almost smile tugging on his lips. Reid raises his paws, laughing in a low rumble.

  
“I’m just curious, are all the horses at your farm French?”

  
Instantly, the playful atmosphere is leeched away. Reid looks as if he’d like to suck all the words back into his mouth. Luke looks carefully at Renette.

  
This is against their unspoken rules. Reid doesn’t mention or ask about Luke’s family, Luke doesn’t volunteer information, and they both do their best to pretend that Luke is here of his own free will. In less than a minute, the charade comes crashing down, and it settles in a metallic lump in Luke’s stomach. Reid is his kidnapper, Luke is a captive.

  
Before Luke has much time to analyze why this leaves a terrible taste in his mouth for more than one reason, his eyes catch something. All of his previous thoughts are swept away, and a wide smile comes to his face unbidden.

  
“She’s foaling, look, look!”

  
Reid instantly gains an alarmed look. “Right now? Should we do something? Does she need help?”

  
“No, no,” Luke reassures him, nudging him with his shoulder reassuringly. “She’s wild, she’s from the herd. She knows what to do, just watch.” And watch they do, silently observing the wonder of birth. They sit for an undeterminable amount of time, both utterly fascinated. Eventually, Luke can’t contain himself.

  
“Oh, oh look!” He says excitedly as the foal plops onto the hay. Luke is all of three years old, bouncing excitedly and attempting to stay quiet. “She’ll be a gorgeous color.” Luke leans unconsciously to the right, feeling a way of dizziness crash over him. Truth be told, he didn’t get much sleep the night before, and it’s so warm in the sun, and Luke feels…safe.

-

Luke’s running pell mell through the woods again, he doesn’t even feel out of breath, though by all rights he should, he’s been running for years. The voices are so loud, but he still can’t make heads or tails of them.

  
The pain in his hand radiates up his arm now, it is worse than any other pain Luke has felt, but he’s not giving up, he won’t let go.

  
Something is in the distance, a vague shape Luke should recognize, but it’s muddled and wrong and backwards in his brain. He opens his mouth, and the first thought is screaming out.

  
 _“REID!”_

-

As Luke comes back down to earth, he finds he’s barely making noise at all, just little mews in his dry throat. He’s flushed, confused, his forehead shining with sweat. Luke can’t figure out where he is, it’s so warm, not like his room in the manor, which is always cool. There’s fine fabric under his cheek, moving just slightly. The slow rise and fall rhythm slows Luke’s heart back to normal.

  
And then there’s the gentlest of touches through his hair, long nails just lightly skimming his scalp. That’s so nice that Luke makes a contented little noise, burrowing back into the arm that supported him. _The arm the supported him._

  
Luke sat straight up, suddenly wide awake.

  
Reid’s arms still held the position Luke had been lying, almost across his lap, supported by one arm like a child. He looks at Luke a little sheepishly, letting his arms fall into his lap.

  
“You seemed so tired; I didn’t want to wake you.” The almost shy, only half annoyed glances are not like Reid at all, and it makes this feel more like a dream than what he has just awakened from.

  
“It’s fine” Luke says mechanically, his eyes locked on the foal, who is beginning gambol about the small clearing with an obvious amount of joy.

  
The next few hours are somewhat more subdued than normal, on an average day it was impossible to keep them from quipping back and forth, trading good natured insults over their books or papers, but now there’s nothing but silence between them. Luke feels as though he might go mad if they continue on in this fashion, and so he wanders the library, venturing into the far dusty corners he has not yet visited. He finally comes to a lumpy canvas covered implement that looks strange among the stacks of books. Luke tears off the cover to find…what?’.

  
“It’s called a Projector,” Reid says softly, and it’s a mark of the time Luke has spent with him that he doesn’t even flinch.

  
“What does it do?” Luke asks, running a hand down the body of the machine. If he was being honest, he didn’t care too much about the machine’s function, but he had to do something to bridge the blasted gap between them.

  
“It allows you to see faraway cities or countries as if you are standing in them yourself.” Reid’s voice is strange, distant and tight.

  
“Magic,” Luke says, his grin saying ‘come on, take the bait, be a grump, be my Reid again’, though Luke’s brain decides to ignore the possessive pronoun as Reid harrumphs, though his eyes are twinkling.

  
“Magic,” says Reid distastefully, though it’s obvious he’s warming to his favorite rant, “idiotic little coin tricks done by dirty pickpockets, now this,” he caresses the Projector lovingly, “is science. The visual cortex is wired through the-“

  
“Could I see my family with this?” Luke asks suddenly, his brain finally catching up with the machine’s capabilities. He stares at it with new eyes, missing Reid’s eyes shuttering off.

  
“Of course,” is the short answer, and though usually such an answer would need a full explanation of how such a machine worked, and of course it could show them they’re not even half way around the world, but Reid is silent as he starts up the Projector, manipulating the fuzzy picture on the stone wall. Soon it is focusing on a picturesque view of Snyder Farm. Luke wants to cry; he can see the fields to the south, golden and ready to be reaped soon, the horses grazing, his mother weeping on his bench. Luke unconsciously takes a step forward as he spots her, and Reid does something to focus the lense so that the picture focuses on her.

  
Luke reaches out as if he could touch the moving picture of his mother. He feels Reid’s paw on his shoulder, a reassuring weight.

  
“Mom, Mom,” Luke murmurs, his throat tight, his face falling in.

  
The picture of his mother stops as Faith comes out of the house, and she wipes at her eyes in an attempt to make it appear as if she was not just sobbing.

  
“Oh, Faith…” Faith wordlessly put an arm around her mother, rubbing her back, her own face mirroring her mother’s sorrow.

  
“How’s Natalie?” Lily says, her voice hopeless as if he already knows the answer.

  
Faith is trying to be optimistic, but a little bit of her sadness shows as she says, “She’s doing…a little better.” The obvious lie pains them both, if it could not be further from the truth. Lily looks at her daughter, trying to smile, but tears spill out before she can make the corners of his mouth move.

  
“I just thought it was over,” Lily moans, covering her hands with her face. “I thought it was gone with Ethan, and now it’s come back for Natalie. It’s going to take each of you from me, and I won’t be able to do a single thing to stop it.”

  
The image of Lily and Faith slowly fades, and blurs out, turning back to an indistinct picture of a stone wall. Luke turns back to Reid and his face his shining with tears. “It’s the same one, it’s happening all over again,” he says helplessly, and when Reid tentatively reaches out to him, Luke buries himself in the embrace without a thought.

  
There’s a long moment spent like this, and Reid finally says, “Go to them. I’ll make an antidote.”

  
Luke looks up at him, shocked, his arms still around Reid’s wide waist.

  
“You would-You’re setting me free?”

  
“Your brother and sister, they might die,” Reid says, looking uncomfortable. He takes a deep breath, and leads Luke over to a side room, which had appeared terribly boring before. The antidote didn’t take very long to brew, with Luke dozing fitfully in a nearby armchair. He bounces back to full consciousness as Reid presses a tiny bottle into his open fingertips.

  
“A teaspoonful will suffice.”

  
Luke looks up, and the expression on Reid’s face is somehow terrible, and as unfathomably unreadable as Luke’s first day at the manor. 

  
“Thank you much,” Luke whispers, his heart swelling as he looks at his captor, his unlikely friend. Impulsively, he takes Reid’s paw, pressing a quick kiss into the palm before dashing off to grab a cloak and saddle Dusk. The next half hour is a blur of running down to the fallen in stable and riding his horse off into the woods, so he’s not entirely sure of the animal howl of pain is real or merely his imagination.


	7. Chapter 7

The ride through the forest takes so short a time that Luke would question how long the distance truly is, if he didn’t have other things taking up the front of his brain. They crash through the last of the bracken and come into the field, streaking past the tree and up the hill. He has to get up the stairs to Faith’s room, before it’s too late. He tears into the bedroom, panting, and his mother looks as though she’s seen a ghost. Faith actually looks like a ghost against the bedclothes, her skin is sickly and lifeless, waxy like a doll crafted to look like Luke’s sister.

“Luke, What-“

Luke shakes his head, still out of breath.

“Not now, I have- I have the antidote.”

He sits on the side of the bed, unstopping the bottle with shaking fingers and tilting Faith’s head up, encouraging her to take a sip.

It’s astonishing how quick the effect takes place; color returns to her face, and the labored breathing barely leaking from her chapped lips evens out into the slow and steady breathing of a peaceful sleep. Luke strokes back her hair gently. He can feel his mother’s eyes on him.

“He let me go,” he says before she can ask. “He has a way to…view people, from far away. I saw Faith, and everyone here, and you were all hurting so much, and-and he let me go.”

Luke realizes he is babbling, and to his dismay his eyes are welling up with tears. Thankfully his mother mistakes them for tears of relief, embracing him with a sob. He leans into her and thinks, ‘I’m home, I’m finally home.’ The twisting in his stomach does not subside.

Dinner that night is brimming over with happiness, and Luke has completely forgotten how loud everyone could be, seated around their gigantic supper table. Several toasts are made in his honor, including one by Faith, propped up on a chaise lounge not far from the group. Ethan insists on sitting right next to him, and Luke is finally able to relax, to enjoy being with his family after so long. The only thing that feels out of place is Noah, who is conspicuously absent, but Luke feels so out of sorts and overwhelmed that he barely notes it. There are just so many voices after months of quiet banter.

Luke is almost content when he wanders up to bed, sliding into his own bed with a strange sense of nostalgia. Perhaps it’s the day he had, but he’s instantly dropping into the open arms of deep sleep.

-

Luke is panicking, terror like ice floes cutting through his veins as he runs as fast as his legs can possibly carry him. He feels exhausted, as he had been running without pause for miles. The forest surrounding him is overgrown but bare, branches whipping at his face as he kicks up leaves and detritus.

The voices are shouting at him, and he can’t make heads or tails of them, except he can because they are

 _hurryhurry runrun toolate toolate_

urging him on. The stone in his hands feels as if it should literally be too much to hold, it’s burning his fingers as if he’s clutching a piece of the sun, he can hear his skin sizzling. Luke feels as if his fingers might fall open soon, because he’s lost all sensation. It takes a monumental effort, but he swings his arm up, and holds it to his chest with both hands, and it beats in time with his own heart. At least it does at first, but he can feel it slowing, feel it dying, and this terrifies Luke more than anything else.

-

Luke comes back to conscious and he is screaming. His fists are clenched to the point of pain, and he is screaming the house down. Something monstrous is clicking in his brain, and he can’t see the whole picture but he knows enough to see that something is terribly wrong, and he needs to leave _now_.

He can hear footsteps pounding up the stairs but by the time his father is groggily bursting through the door, Luke is pulling on pants and toeing on boots.

“Luke, are you okay?”

“Something’s wrong, Reid’s-“ the word ‘dying’ pops to his lips, and he instinctively knows that that is exactly what will happen, and it makes him sick to his stomach. “I have to do something.”

“Luke, who are you talking about?”

Luke realizes that the name means nothing to Holden, and thinks that he should have spent last night talking about his surprisingly contented captivity, but it’s too late and he needs to leave _now_.

The forest is overgrown and wild, and how can that be possible when Luke just came through less than twenty four hours ago? The trees all look the same and in the span of an hour, Luke is as lost as he was on the first moonlit ride to Reid’s manor.

Dusk is feeding off of Luke’s anxiety, shying away from every shadow and Luke is about to cry, because there is something he is meant to do, he just can’t articulate it. Total realization is still failing him, but he knows with the certainty of the sun rising in the east and setting in the west, that if he does not make it to Reid, his beast will die.

Luke is just about to give up hope, about to curl up in the roots of the next gnarled tree, when he and his horse tumble out onto the meadow, not unlike being spat out. He looks with disbelieving eyes at the manor, it’s some strange unidentifiable color, until it hits him; it’s rusting. Luke leaves Dusk to his own devices, taking out a full bodied run of panic.

He crashes through the front door, breath bursting out of him like vomit, great hurking gasps, but he still hasn’t found Reid as he tears through each room, and that makes it worse.

Finally, he is ripping open the door to the library, and Luke almost does vomit when his eyes find the shape, contorted on the floor. There’s a fine layer of dust over everything, and the silence in the room is one made of decades. Luke skids over to him, shaking one great shoulder as violently as he can.

Reid barely stirs, eyes fluttering open and close again, and Luke tries to take heart in the fact that he moves at all.

“Oh, late as always,” the Beast rasps, and the weak chuckle makes Luke’s throat hurt.

“I’m sorry,” Luke says, and he tries to pull that monstrous head into his lap, even though there’s so damn much of it.

“Shut up, it’s my own damn fault,” Reid argues, well, as best as he can laid prone on the floor with his life running out of him. “…said I had poison in my veins, in my heart, so a little more wouldn’t kill me too quickly,” he gurgles, and Luke has tunnel vision and everything hurts and _oh god please no_

and then everything snaps together, as if every confusing dream is choosing now to make sense. Luke takes a long low breath.

With the wisdom borne of a spell, Luke calmly reaches out, his hands passing through Reid’s chest as if it were not more substantial than air. However sure Luke’s fingers, his voice is full of shock, and childlike wonder.

“I love you.”

Then he is sure, purposeful.

 _“I love you.”_

His hands close over Reid’s heart. He can feel how weakly it pulses.

 _slug_

 _slug_

 _slug_

but he says _no, no you will not_

 _slug_

 _slug_

 _slug_

Luke’s fingers find something. Something he wants to recoil away from, something that makes his flesh crawl. Yet still, for spell-logic says he must, he tugs it out gingerly, pulling it free of Reid’s chest. It’s a shard of stone, appearing to be something like obsidian, and the colors swirl sickeningly like oil on water. Just holding it makes Luke feel ill, and he throws it down, watching it shatter on the floor.

Feeling utterly exhausted, Luke sinks down. With his head pillowed on Reid’s chest, mesmerized by his deep breaths, he feels himself slipping away into oblivion. He does not dream.

When Luke awakens sometime later, blunt fingertips are rubbing circles on his temple, and Luke smiles blearily and leans into it for a moment before-

Luke sits up; blinking sleep out of his eyes and staring at the man he has been curled up against. He’s slender, with a long torso, though the outlines of his body are hard to see from the shirt and trousers practically drowning his frame.

The man rises up on his elbows, and his face is intensely masculine and angular, his hair wavy and auburn with a little grey at the temples. His expression is amusement, and he quirks an eyebrow over his bright blue eyes, and Luke _knows_.

He throws his arms around Reid’s neck with a cry of astonished delight.

“Oh my God! You’re-“

“A stupid human?” Reid finishes, and how much higher his voice is pitched makes Luke laugh, relief making him almost dizzy.

“So I don’t know if you heard me earlier, but I love you,” Luke says solemnly.

“Well I don’t know if you remember, I may have mentioned it before, but I love you too,” Luke quips, and Luke’s laughing and kissing him and laughing. He presses his lips to Reid’s fervently, and his heart pitter-patters with love and want as he feels Reid’s sharp intake of breath, arms circling Luke as if he might vanish. Minutes pass, and then Luke eases back.

“Alright, explain.”

Reid rolls his eyes, and begins.

“Once upon a time, a very capable, intelligent, and devilishly handsome healer,” and here Luke laughs again, “Was assaulted by a sorcerer who seemed to think this healer had poison in his veins, and a heart of stone. He pointed a finger at this healer and called him a beast.”

“Does this healer have a name, perhaps something like Reid?” Luke asks slyly.

“Shh, you’re interrupting my flow. So the finger was pointed, and the healer was turned into a hideous monster. The terms of the enchantment were that if someone could take the stone from his heart, and if someone could love him before the stone poisoned his body, he would be returned to human form.”

“How long did you have to wait?” Luke asks, toying with the collar that now gave the overlarge shirt a deep vee, exposing an inviting amount of skin.

“Something like a hundred years,” Reid says airily, and Luke stares at him. “I’m a very old beast.” “No,” says Luke, combing his fingers through Reid’s hair, “you’ve always been human.”


	8. Epilogue

Later on, much later on, Luke and his healer went back to Snyder farm, where they first encountered Noah and the messenger who had brought news of Luke’s father in an embrace, high in the oak tree. After Noah nearly fell from the tree, and Luke laughed himself silly, they all went up to the farmhouse.

The situation took much explanation, and though Holden and Reid never did quite see eye to eye, eventually an arrangement was agreed upon.

“They’re ready for you!” Faith sings out, adjusting the rose tucked into her hair. Noah looked vaguely nauseated, and Reid attempted to give him a manly back pat of solidarity.

“I saw him earlier, he looked very happy,” Reid intones. “You know, in that dopey way of his.”

“Hey,” Noah protests weakly, finally finding a smile. He looks thoughtfully at Reid for a moment, before pulling him into an abrupt hug. “Of all the assholes Luke could have picked, I’m glad he picked you.”

“Duly noted,” Reid drawls, hugging back for a moment before moving away. “We should probably get out there before we’re murdered by our fiancées.”

Noah laughs, yanking open the front door of the farmhouse, the sunlight temporarily blinding them both as they trot toward the large crowd of people assembled on the lawn. The only thing that might rival the sun for brightness is the smiles on their future husbands’ faces.


End file.
